As you know, the exhaust dropped off my car last week: it's sitting outside my house looking all forlorn, and whimpering, "please fix me!" Not a hope in hell; the clutch needs replacing, the brakes need doing, the tyres are thinning on top and those are just the bits I can see. It's going to the big scrap-heap in the sky, I'm afraid. And if it's affronted, it should've held onto its bloody bits, shouldn't it?
Well, a friend (I shall call her J) offered me a car for free - free! She'd been given a new one by friends and wanted to pass this one onto a good home. Well, homes don't come better than this one; just ask the dog. Fan-bloody-tastic! was my hearty response along with thank-you, thank-you, thank-you.
I went to collect the new car today. It wouldn't start. We rocked and jiggled it, we pushed and pulled it, we swore and cajoled it, and it started. (It knew there was a swift kick coming its way if it didn't play ball.) I stopped at TESCO on the way home for essentials - milk, bread and chocolate. Yep, you guessed it: the bloody thing wouldn't start again, even with a good kicking... Two hours and several cups of coffee later, we bump-started it into action. Yippee!
I dropped it into our local garage on the way home (after narrowly avoiding a head-on collision in the lanes - no way was I even slowing down, let alone stopping, I can tell you!)
Watch this space for Car Saga update...
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